Wishes of Golden Chain
by Wandering Minds
Summary: In this, the prequel to elven dreams and misadventures, a young imaginative but lonely girl finds true love in the arms of a prime example of genus tolkienus. LOC COMPLETE!
1. The Never in Reality

We've remodeled the first three chapters of this fic now, and hopefully it is for the better. I will now take this opportunity to state that: I'm so sorry about the lack of new chapters in the sequel (dramatic sob) IT'S ALL MY FAULT! PLEASE OH PLEASE FORGIVE ME! And also, as always, we have no claim to any of Tolkien's amazing characters other than posters and cardboard Legolas stand ups. This fic is purely for entertainment purposes and we don't get any sort of payment from it other than reviews and the fun we have messing with people's heads. We thank you for not suing, 'cause you can't have my ramen anyways. Phe

Wishes of Golden Chain  
  
Chapter One  
  
The sun shone pleasantly on that clear autumn day. The crisp, cool air was filled with the sounds of children playing. However, the red haired high school freshman was paying little mind to the distracting sound of the nearby game of tag or what not. She sat by the largest tree in the playground, a bag of multicolored pencils and old books beside her. Upon the sketchpad in her lap, a gray shaded creature was slowly taking shape. Slowly at first, a line here, a curve there, and... done. She held up her work. With a disappointed sigh, Andrea flipped the sketch book closed. The prancing unicorn she had envisioned had escaped her yet again.  
  
'It makes sense,' she thought with a shake of her flame colored hair, 'that something so perfect can never be captured in its true beauty.' Putting her sketchpad aside, she shifted through the other contents of her bag. At the top was a small collection of well-loved and over-read books.

When her mom had gotten the new job, she had moved Andrea and her brother to a small house just outside the city. As Andrea had no car as of yet, it meant she was now a good ways too far from any library for her to walk. And she hadn't had the time to unpack most of her beloved paperbacks. As such, she was utterly bored.

With what could be interpreted as a low growl, she closed the bag and stood. Catching sight of her younger brother, she waved him over.

"Tony, it's getting to be lunch time, why don't we head home, OK?" she asked tiredly, ruffling the small boy's hair.

"Wa-na scety-O," Tony agreed happily, bouncing. With a smile, Andrea took her brother's sand covered hand and they walked the few blocks back to the house.

Andrea opened the front door and headed to the kitchen. As she was pulling the pan a box, her mother entered.

"How was the park? Did you two have fun?"

"Made a bee-chee casmul!" Tony announced proudly.

"So I see. Now, why don't you wash your hands before you eat, alright?" Peggy smiled as her youngest toddled his way into the restroom down the hall. Andrea smiled up at her mother.

"So, did you create any master piece working at the new studio?" she asked as the spaghetti-Os plopped into the pan. The red mush and soggy noodle rings squished unappealingly as they landed.

"Oh, I think some of the shots will come out alright. You want to come help me in the dark room tomorrow?" Andrea shrugged.

"I really need to unpack before school starts, but I'd like to. Maybe next time?" She looked over apologetically.

"Next time then. I understand. You only have one more week of freedom, after all."

Andrea turned her attention back to lunch. The pasta from can plopped like thick swamp mud. It truly was a show of how much she adored her younger brother that she was willing to eat the stuff. She turned off the burner and put the food mass into two bowls.

When she entered the living room, Tony was jumping up and down as "The Little Mermaid" played on the TV. He sang along-off key-as the crab on the screen preached musical style about the joys found under the sea.

"I a fish, Andreee!"

"Yes, you're a very good fish. Come eat your lunch now, kay?" Tony bounced over.

"Fish food!"

Leaving her brother to his food, Andrea trudged up the stairs to her room, setting the bowl on a large cardboard box that hadn't yet been unpacked. She flipped on a CD to her favorite song to try and perk up her mood.

It did little good. She felt restless. Flopping out on her bed, she tried to picture herself as a character in one of her books. 'That's what I want,' she thought with a sigh. Andrea was bored with her life. She wanted an adventure, to be the heroin of some fairytale. She wanted to be captured by a dragon and saved by some knight in shining armor, or to meet some wondrous fairy godmother and capture the heart of the charming prince hosting the magical ball. But unfortunately, she knew the limits of reality. Besides, even if a fairy godmother did send her to a magic ball, she didn't know how to dance, and dragons were said to be smelly.  
  
"So the story never even starts." She muttered to her stuffed animals, pulling the pillow over her head. That was how she drifted off to sleep.  
  
"Andrea, what are you doing up there?" The beautiful voice asked from below her.  
  
"I'm sitting in a tree." She stated in a matter of fact voice. Bell like laughter rang out in response. 'Ah good,' she thought, 'I've him got to laugh! Now all I have to do is pounce and this game of tag is mine.' But, she was already too late.  
  
"Andrea, melamin, why do you insist on these games? You will not win." He had somehow leapt up to sit beside her on the branch, a vision of golden beauty.  
  
"Melamin?" She was trying to act as if she had expected his invasion of what would have been- had she not so adored him- her personal space. He merely smiled, which was enough to make her insides melt away.  
  
"Andreee!" her brother bounced onto her bed. "Ge up Andreee! Pay wit me! Pay wit me!"  
  
"Off the bed, don't jump on my bunnies." Andrea commanded, slightly grumpy at the sudden interruption of such a strange and wonderful dream. "What do you want?"  
  
"Pay esplorers wit me!" He begged in the voice he knew she had no power to refuse, at least not when it was combined with Tony's puppy eyes.  
  
"Alright. I'll play, but only for a little while." She sighed. Tony was delighted, and bounced back to the floor.  
  
"Yesssssss!" his call was a bit muffled as he ran into the hallway. Andrea followed with less than half of his enthusiasm.  
  
"Ge down at-ick! Pay esplorers! Hat in at-ick!"  
  
Andrea did as she was told, wondering why that particular box had been put in such an inaccessible place. After telling him to stay and making sure he got the message, she began to look for the awful hats he always insisted they wear to play explorers. She was at a loss as to where they could be.  
  
In her search she knocked aside a stack of ancient boxes that had been left by the previous owner.

"Ouch... that really hurt..." she whined, rubbing her elbow. Then the wall behind the boxes caught her gaze. "What the balloon?"

The wall framed a small doorway. She rose and gave the old door a shove, only to find it stuck tight. Most people would have given up, but Andrea had a great knowledge of fantasy stories even if she was greatly lacking knowledge in the reality department. And hidden attic rooms often contained secrets that led to even better secrets. And, knowing it was highly unlikely that there really truly was anything out of the ordinary, she began to work find a way to open the room up.


	2. Missing the Lamp Post

Is it better?

Chapter two: Missing the Lamp Post  
  
"Her-reee!" she could hear Tony shouting below.  
  
"I'm looking!" was her reply. In truth, she was looking, just not for those hats.  
  
Andrea shoved at the door again and was rewarded with a slight creak and a slight view of what could be a desk and a trunk. What was in the trunk?

Bracing herself, she gave a hard push. There was a loud splintering sound as the door fell open. Andrea slipped carefully into what must have been, at some point, a sort of office or study. It was rather plain and dusty with a few random boxes and simple every day objects lying here and there. One wall held a large window draped with heavy curtains, an old freestanding mirror, and an age darkened wardrobe. Against the opposite wall stood a large desk, suspiciously still covered in papers and opened books. Near the remaining walls were smaller desks, bookshelves, trunks, and other such things.  
  
Childish curiosity drove her to the books upon the desk first. They were so covered in thick dust that she had to wipe it from the page with her sleeve before she could see the words. The script was hand written, curving across the paper in a language she couldn't read, but found extremely beautiful.

She moved to the wardrobe next. With a tug of the handle and a protesting creek, the doors swung open. It was, as one might expect, filled with clothing. But there was something odd about these particular garments. They seemed to be both medieval and oriental at the same time, and there was flow and grace around them she couldn't pin point, as if it was woven into the fabric, which wasn't of any sort she had seen before.  
  
In awe, she pulled out a beautiful lilac dress that seemed to shimmer like flowing water. But the sight of the plain wooden back of the wardrobe made her sigh. No magic, no portal to somewhere that was not at all possible. She hung the dress back in its place.  
  
That was when she first saw IT. The tiny spark of gold thrown in a corner of the room, barely visible. Cocking her head to the side, she walked over and picked IT up. IT was a tiara of made of finely linked golden chain hung with diamonds like a crystal rain. The middle diamond was shaped as a star, throwing rainbows across the graying room. IT didn't fit with the dust on the floor, and was clean, untouched by time. Closing her eyes, Andrea placed IT on her head. The world suddenly spun to darkness, and she was floating away with it. A voice, soft and feminine, called out to her.  
  
What is your desire, Andrea? What is it you wish for the most?

"Someone to understand... somewhere to be where I can belong." The words came from her mouth without her consent, and she knew at once that they had not truly come from any direct thought she had had, though they were the complete truth.

Ah, that is an easy one.

The darkness spun.


	3. Crash Course in Fairy Tale 101

Chapter 3

The spinning faded to fireworks, the fireworks faded to sparkles, and the sparkles faded to... trees? Andrea blinked, looking around at the thick forest that had appeared from nowhere.

And there were the tall, blonde, well... not exactly people as in the human sense of the word. They looked almost human, but Andrea had read WAY too many fantasy books to let their unreal features and pointed ears pass for a trick of the light.Really, she wasn't to terribly bothered by their appearance. What DID bother her, however, was the fact that they were all aiming arrows at her. That made her just a tad bit nervous.  
  
"Túl. Hil nev nin." (Come. Follow closely. )  
  
"Er." Andrea glanced at the gleaming tips of the arrow closest to her, and chose her words carefully. If she was lucky, they might just understand her. "I am sure that I would do whatever it is you just said, provided that I could understand it. Given the current circumstances..." She hoped that sounded good and prayed they knew English.  
  
The "being" that apparently was in charge, and who appeared to be male, laughed at her.  
  
"Well spoken, for one so small." He motioned for the others to lower their bows. Andrea let loose a breath she hadn't known she was holding. "Come with me and follow closely."  
  
She had really wanted to comment that she wasn't all that short. Well, Ok, so she was rather small and had always seemed young for her age, but still... Self- preservation kicked in around the time she opened her mouth. She managed to squeak out "Whatever you say, sir" instead.  
  
She was lead the thick forest on a narrow trail. 'Enchanted,' she thought to herself as she studied the trees they passed, 'or just really old...or both. I wonder what this place is and how I got here. I'm pretty sure it wasn't the wardrobe. Oh well, no point in worrying now, as long as weapons are put away safely. They were rather pretty bows, though. And this is a nice place, in a severely creepy sort of way.' She was nearly jogging to match strides with the tall beings. "Excuse me... sir? Where exactly are we going?"  
  
"To King Thranduil, so that we may see what is to be done with you."  
  
"Ah, alright then." There wasn't a single light bulb in her memory. She didn't ask more for the moment. Instead, she continued to study her surroundings. Her fingers itched for a sketchbook. 'When traveling to fairy tale worlds, always remember: Pencil, Paper, and good running shoes.' There was a sort of beauty about the place, even if it was the same sort of beauty found in old gothic houses and over- decorated graveyards. Andrea's breath caught in her throat then, they had reached the palace.  
  
Awe is a fairly inadequate word for what it names. "Well Toto, we are definitely not in Kansas anymore. If we had turned at the lamppost, we wouldn't have missed Oz and Narnia. Where do you suppose this road leads now? Never-Never Land? And why on earth did I ever leave without my art set?" She murmured under her breath.  
  
"Pardon?" The being who had been leading stared at her, confusion in his face.  
  
"Nothing." Andrea hadn't meant to speak aloud. The beings exchanged looks of what she could only hope was amusement. Then the leader motioned for her to follow. She did so without hesitation, she still had no wish to get a closer look at any sharply pointed arrows.  
  
The palace itself was actually a lot like labyrinth of tunnels-large richly decorated tunnels with enough windows to light them without need of candle or torch. She followed through the seemingly endless passages of carved, stone trees till they reached the throne room.


	4. Unlearning Santa

Thank you to all the very wonderful happy people that reviewed! May you be showered in pixi stixs and chocolate! Chapter four is here. Took long enough, eh? Well, chapter five shouldn't take quite so long. Now please, step around any plot-holes you may or may not encounter and enjoy the fic. Bah-bye!  
  
~Phe~  
  
Unlearning Santa  
  
Andrea was scared, though she wouldn't have admitted it. That's something a lot of fairy tails leave out. Even Hansel and Gretel's house of sweets must have been pretty scary once they thought about it, especially if they went to the dentist afterwards. Although, this was a bit different from that sort of fairy tail.  
  
She was led in. Once, Andrea had gone to a cave on a field trip. She had hidden in one corner of the cave for hours and sketched out page after page of this one column of living rock in the center of that room. She still remembered that cave and how pretty it had been. That cave had been nothing compared to this one. Pillars of gleaming, living stone lined the hall, lit with ruby torchlight. The wooden throne was occupied by a very unhappy looking being wearing a crown of red leaves and berries and holding a wooden staff. That, Andrea thought, would be the king.  
  
The leader of the group who had brought her was speaking to the king in the strange language. Andrea took the opportunity to look around. She once again wished for her sketchbook. Then she saw another being in the far corner of the room. He had a book and was leaning against the wall holding his place with a finger. He was watching her. Andrea felt her cheeks warm and prayed they wouldn't turn too red.  
  
"Speak." The king's voice startled her out of her so much that she jumped. "Who are you?"  
  
"Er." Andrea's voice came out as a barely audibly whisper. "My name's Andrea, sir." She was wondering to herself that, if you crossed King Haggard with one of those male TV stars that are always on the cover of teen magazines you would get someone like the king. She though it would be likely.  
  
"Why are you here?"  
  
"I got lost." She mumbled, looking down at her feet. This was true, though not the whole truth. Sometimes, the whole truth isn't a good thing to tell people. Sometimes they might think you're crazy. Though, at the moment, Andrea might have agreed with that statement.  
  
"What were you doing in Mirkwood?" He was sounding angry. Andrea flinched.  
  
"I'm not entirely certain what you mean, sir." This was a whole truth, as Andrea had never included Tolkien on her list of fantasy books to check out.  
  
"I will ask one more time. Why are you here?" His eyes had gone sort of squinty. Andrea had experience that told her not to mess with someone whose eyes have gone all squinty like that. Sadly, she still had no clue what he wanted of her.  
  
"I got lost. I have no clue where I am at all, and I can't really tell you what I was doing besides being lost, cause I haven't been doing anything except being lost!" It is also sad to say she had worked up a bit of a temper over the last half-hour, and had said something to the king that was most likely not a very smart thing to say.  
  
The king had started to say something to the others in that strange language again, when the elf in the corner spoke.  
  
"Atar, she is but a child. Surely she could not have come to do harm. Look at her. She is shaking." Andrea wanted to melt into a little puddle. She also wanted to say she wasn't a child and was nearly fifteen, thank you very much. But hey, if a lack of growth hormones saved her life, far be it from her to complain.  
  
The king was considering the statement. At long last he spoke. "Very well, I put her in your care." The elf in the corner gave the king a half bow- half nod and motioned for Andrea to follow him, which she was all to happy to do.  
  
He led her back into the hall and down a series of passages and hallways. "You said your name is Andrea, yes?"  
  
"It is."  
  
"You have a strange name. Where are you from?" He was smiling back at her, and she could feel her insides turn to mush.  
  
"Second star to the right, straight on till the third big lump of matter from the sun, right over the rainbow, left through the toll both. Please have exact change." It had been the answer she and her friends had once given a mean, snappish lady who had asked the way to an expensive clothing store. She had stored it away in memory till she had another opportunity to use it. At the confused look on her rescuer's face, however, she changed her answer. "New York. It's a long way from here, I think.but maybe not."  
  
"I have never heard of it."  
  
"I wouldn't think so.um." Andrea wrung her hands. "Not meaning to be rude or anything.but.what exactly are you?"  
  
"I'm an elf." He was laughing as he said this. "My name is Legolas."  
  
Andrea was thinking something along the lines of, what? Elf? Like Santa? Good gosh.then again, if this is the North Pole, I think I prefer it without the snow and such.wow.elves sure are pretty.ah! Where'd that come from?! Legolas was watching her think these thoughts with an amused expression.  
  
"Your room is here."  
This was meant to be much longer, but it got cut short. More to come soon. Even sooner if you click the pretty button. 


	5. Like Fireflies

Like Fireflies  
  
Nearly a week had passed since Andrea had first come to Mirkwood. Tonight she was walking, spellbound by the wood's beauty. Moonlight hung like silver streamers in the trees, the world was silver, blue, indigo and green against the black sky hung with dancing diamonds. Andrea stood in the middle of it all feeling out of place but happy. Truthfully, she was watching Legolas.  
  
The gold haired elven prince was sitting on one of the many low tree branches, singing softly to himself. Though she did not understand the words he sang, she didn't mind. She was quite happy to simply melt into a little puddle and listen to his voice forever.  
  
'You're fairy spelled. You stepped into their world and can never wish to leave. Your heart is caught in their moonlight net and will now rest here forever.' She thought, and didn't care, not even a little. So lost was she in the spell, that she didn't noticed Legolas stop singing.  
  
"Andrea, what are you doing up so late?"  
  
'Drooling over an elf-prince, and you?' she thought with a smile before answering. "Nothing really, just walking around. And you're up just as late as I am."  
  
He laughed. "So I am." Waving her over, he continued, "Come sit with me a while. You seem about to run away."  
  
Now it was Andrea's turn to laugh as she quoted, "You must never run from anything immortal. It attracts their attention."  
  
"Where did you hear that?"  
  
"A book." Shrugging, she added, "Knowing me, I'd only trip anyhow." This made the elf laugh even more. And the two sat side by side for a while.  
  
Andrea looked up at the stars. There were so MANY of them. To Andrea, who had spent her entire life in one large city or another, the stars were a rare piece of magic-something to be treasured. They made her smile and think of holiday camping trips.  
  
"Star-light, star-bright, first star I see tonight, I wish I may, I wish I might-"  
  
"What do you wish Andrea?"  
  
"I wish..." 'What do I wish?' Andrea was silent for a while. "To catch the stars like fireflies." She said at last.  
  
"No one can catch the stars."  
  
"Maybe," she laughed, "you'll see."  
  
Within himself, Legolas was growing uncomfortable. He had come out here to talk to Morniwen, but Morniwen had not shown up. Now, here was this oddly endearing little human child talking to him about the stars, and he was enjoying it far too much. Morniwen would not be pleased. He needed to get away from Andrea, before -  
  
"Cuedhel? Are you hiding, my warrior?"  
  
Legolas flinched. Morniwen was so sweet, but why must she always refer to him as 'cuedhel,' her 'bow-elf'?  
  
"Who's that?" Andrea wanted to know.  
  
"My lady," Legolas replied. "I came out to meet her, but she was late."  
  
"Don't you need a chaperone?" Andrea asked, slightly disapproving.  
  
"There are always Elves in the trees, watching," Legolas revealed. "If not, I would not meet her here, but somewhere in the palace of my father where there are many people to avouch our honor."  
  
"Oh, ok," Andrea said, mollified.  
  
Morniwen was NOT mollified.  
  
"I do not see what business it is of yours what my love and I do or do not," she snapped from behind Andrea. Andrea jumped a foot, squealing loud enough to make both elves (and all those hidden in the trees) move to cover their ears.  
  
"I didn't mean anything by it," she apologized when she came back down. "We were just talking while he waited for you."  
  
"I see," Morniwen said coldly, jealousy plain in her coal-clack eyes. Brushing behind her shoulder a strand of inky black hair, she went on crushingly,  
  
"I am here now. You may go."  
  
"Yes'm," Andrea said meekly. With lowered eyes, she ducked past the tall, beautiful elf and hurried back towards the palace. A little while after she had made it out of earshot, she noticed that she was crying. You idiot, she told herself harshly. Why would he look twice at you when he's got somebody as pretty as her? I knew it was too good to be true. "Baka." (Idiot.)  
  
Meanwhile, Legolas and Morniwen were slightly at odds with one another.  
  
"Why did you speak to her that way?" Legolas demanded. "She is not your slave. That is not like you. You are usually so kind."  
  
"Well, what were you and she doing out here?"  
  
"I was waiting for you. She was out wandering around, getting acquainted with the place, I suppose, and she came over to talk. Is it such a crime?"  
  
"She loves you," Morniwen said angrily. "Are you dense?"  
  
"She wanted to talk. I talked. I do not see how such a thing is love. She is a human child. What threat is she to you?"  
  
"You tell me."  
  
Push the button and review. Come on, you know you want to! 


	6. Verbal Dodgeball

I got many people asking about Andrea's age. Here's the deal: In the first story, she is a freshman in high school. Elven Dreams has picked up about 4 years after Golden Chain has left off. So yes, she is a bit young in this one, but this is also about the time of "The Hobbit" so Legolas is a bit younger here too. (Elven Dreams is AFTER LotR, think Narnia time line, K?) And to Europa: the fairy spell didn't come from any book really. I tried to show here comparing M.E. to the semi-modern idea of fairies. And yes, the last unicorn has recently made two shows-ups in this fic, as this is shown through Andrea's view for the most part and it is something to connect the world she knows with the world she is in.  
  
~phe-chan~  
  
Several weeks passed and became several months as Andrea, Legolas, and Morniwen truly began to learn each about the others' respective characters. Legolas learned that Morniwen was not always the gentle, mild-mannered person that he had at first construed her to be, especially when and where Andrea was concerned. Morniwen learned that Andrea truly was a child, small in stature and in self-esteem, and far more so in her knowledge of the world beyond Mirkwood's borders and sometimes even within the realm of Mirkwood itself. Andrea learned to run if ever she caught sight of Morniwen, no matter what mood the Elven-lady was in, and that she could not ride horses, no matter how beautiful the creatures happened to be or how soft to touch.  
  
Ideas began to form in all three persons' individual minds. Andrea began to see that it might not be so impossible as first she had thought to obtain the attentions of the Elven-prince - all that was needed was to stick one foot behind the other and purposefully trip, for when she did, an elf never failed to appear from nowhere to catch her, and as often as not, that elf was Legolas. She also discovered that there was a circumstance under which she did not need to retreat from Morniwen's presence: the circumstance in which that presence was complemented by Legolas'. If both Legolas AND Morniwen were in attendance, one of two things would invariably happen: one, that Morniwen made all possible efforts to control her temper in front of the prince, and so would not verbally attack Andrea; or two, that she would forget to restrain herself and then lash out at the young human, whom Legolas would promptly champion, achieving both Andrea's safety and a point against Morniwen in the elf- prince's eyes and memory.  
  
In Legolas' mind there began to shape itself the idea that Morniwen and himself were not so well matched as had thought he and his father (this notion was undoubtedly helped along by the frequent encounters in which Andrea's appearance elicited the worst from the female elf). He began to consider, very infrequently and for very brief periods of time, the idea of breaking off his courtship with Morniwen. However, as a prudent and cautious son of royalty, he refused to act upon such a notion until he was certain it was in both his and Morniwen's best interest to do so.  
  
To Morniwen there had come but one idea, one notion, one conclusion, one plan: Andrea was a distraction to Legolas; Andrea took Legolas' attention away from Morniwen; Andrea was a threat to Morniwen; and, as such, she must be removed. forthwith.  
  
But, stay! For now we relate to you a few of the above mentioned interviews, as will any bard of even passing and insignificant worth.   
  
Legolas was sitting on the thick branch of a mossy, old oak tree, one leg swinging idly in the air, with the intent of preventing a potentially explosive situation. It was about the time of day when Morniwen generally undertook her routine excursion through the southern groves of Mirkwood, or at least those groves sufficiently close to Thranduil's palace that one might reach them and return within one night. Laughing to himself, Legolas reflected that one might even call it a pilgrimage, the elven-girl observed it so religiously. He could never extract from his dark-haired lady the knowledge of why or where she went, but go she did, every afternoon at dusk.  
  
Thus was her passing through the clearing dangerously imminent. Normally, he would have thought, what of it? But today that ridiculously endearing little human had somehow managed to choose the one spot that she ought not be anywhere near to spend the day to amuse herself in. If she and Morniwen met, sparks would inevitably fly. This it was that Legolas sought to anticipate and hopefully to forestall.  
  
As surely as the Dooms of Mandos came infallibly to pass, Morniwen soon appeared to find Andrea, for lack of anything more entertaining to do, drawing a horse in the dust with a twig. Legolas sat up and made ready to leap between the twp females should things become too... unpleasant. He was unprepared for the ensuing conversation.  
  
"Hello, Dark Lady," said Andrea, affecting a tone of absent- minded nonchalance. She knew that Legolas was in the tree across the glade, or she would not have been quite so much at her ease. Why he was there, Andrea neither knew nor cared; she knew only that he had been there, silent and virtually unblinking, the entire day.  
  
" 'Dark Lady'?" Morniwen frowned.  
  
She happened to be in a somewhat indulgent humor.  
  
"Isn't that what your name means? No offense, but I kinda can't pronounce it."  
  
"You pronounce 'Legolas' well enough."  
  
Andrea thought of telling Morniwen that it had taken an hour of Legolas' careful coaching for the young human to pronounce the prince's name, but realized that that would probably only cause more grief for Legolas. Instead, she asked bluntly,  
  
"Why are you so scared of me?"  
  
On his oak-branch, Legolas sat up even straighter as Morniwen bridled visibly. Did the little mortal delight in pain?  
  
"Scared?" Morniwen pronounced in threatening tones. "Do you presume me FRIGHTENED of you?"  
  
"I know you are, or else you wouldn't be so nasty."  
  
"Nasty?" Morniwen enunciated, her black eyes starting lividly.  
  
Legolas actually stood up on the branch.  
  
"Hate to tell ya this, but you're about as pleasant as a wet toad."  
  
Hitherto, Andrea had not looked up from her dust-sketch. Now she raised her eyes to meet the elf-maid's and added defiantly,  
  
"A SCARED wet toad."  
  
"You have never dared before this to speak to me so boldly," Morniwen exclaimed, her curiosity and surprise gaining mastery over her anger and indignation.  
  
Realizing that she had assumed, at least in part, the role of aggressor in the eyes of Legolas and Morniwen, Andrea backed off radically.  
  
"You're just always so mean to me," she sighed, dropping her eyes again and being, though meek, completely honest, "and I've never done ANYTHING to you. Besides," she continued, dropping her voice so low that even Legolas' quick ears could not hear it, and Morniwen, standing over the girl, struggled to make out Andrea's words, "why would he want me, when he's got you?"  
  
Sympathy had no part in Morniwen's character. With a hurtful laugh, she responded,  
  
"Why indeed, young mortal?" There was a crushingly suggestive accent on her last word.  
  
Andrea flinched and ran her finger through the dust. Morniwen walked away and left her there. Legolas could not think what Morniwen could have said to upset the little human girl, but he had the strangest feeling in the pit of his stomach. He had to force himself to believe that he loved Morniwen; the feeling no longer flowed from his heart. He went from alarm to anger to a feeling of tiredness that tried to persuade him that he wanted nothing more to do with females, that they were far too complex for his would-be carefree elven mind. Still, said another voice inside of him, I must at least console Andrea, for she grieves mightily.  
  
With a quick leap, he stood over the young girl. She did not look up at him. He waited for a long moment for her to speak, but she was silent. She looked up at the sky to the west.  
  
"What do you see?" he asked quietly.  
  
"Pretty sunset," she whispered in a choked voice. "I'm going to capture one someday," she went on in a determined tone. "I will."  
  
"First the stars, now the sun," laughed Legolas kindly. "What then?"  
  
"The moon," Andrea stated matter-of-factly.  
  
"Perhaps such things were not meant to be tamed," Legolas suggested gently; "it may be that they are too wild."  
  
Like you? Thought Andrea with a small smile.  
  
"Well, maybe it'll be alright if I just take a little piece of them," she said.  
  
"With a piece of the sun missing, and of the moon, and of the stars, will the sky be the same?"  
  
"I just want to paint them!" Andrea cried miserably. Weren't Elves supposed to understand poetic metaphors?  
  
"I see," murmured Legolas, much astonished. The child enjoyed painting? "I do see. Then I hope that you do catch all of the stars at once, Little One."  
  
Andrea gave a squeak like a small rodent's and flushed with pleasure.  
  
"You think I can?"  
  
"I know it."  
  
Legolas spent the next day inside his father's palace hunting several different things. He gathered up some blank sheets of parchment, together with the inks and dyes of his people. He also managed to find a few brushes and pens. Putting these tools into a small wooden box and curling up the papers, he waited till nightfall and placed these treasures outside of Andrea's chamber door. 


	7. I Dub Thee Squee

Hehehe! You now get many all at once! Fear the muses! FEAR THEM!  
  
~Phe-chan~  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Andrea sat up in her beautiful bed and stretched. A wonderful night of uninterrupted repose upon a down mattress, beneath a velveteen coverlet, in a palace of Elves, listening to the soothing sound of raindrops on crystal windows had done much to improve her peace of mind. Still, yesterday's spat with Morniwen had hurt her deeply, and such wounds are not easily effaced. Get over it, she told herself; it's your own fault for nursing delusions. The Elf-lady is right.  
  
With a small, sad sigh, she wrapped an elven-shawl around her muslin nightgown and went to her door. She might as well see what Galion could scrounge her up for breakfast. Galion was the butler. He was nice, but from the way he behaved (one could never really tell from the way these dratted immortals LOOKED) she suspected that he was an older elf.  
  
As she opened the door, which chanced to open inward, she gave her loudest fangirl squeal. The palace reverberated, and such of the Elven- folk as were not wont to rise early - well, let us simply say that they did so anyway, straight through their chambers' roofs. There before the doorway she found paper, pens, ink... everything she could ever want to occupy herself with was there at her disposal.  
  
"He got me an art set!" she sobbed, clutching the ornately carved wooden box in which she had found the brushes and paints. Very nearly inaudibly, she added, "He does care... just a little."  
  
Andrea did not even wait to dress herself properly, but ran outside into the misted, rain-glittered forest in her shawl and gown, flopped down onto the wet grass, and began painting the picturesque scene around her. She worked feverishly to catch the spirit of the piece before the sun, which had just then begun to break through the clouds, a few hours after the rain had stopped, could burn away the fog and change to vapor the glistening dews. She hadn't even stopped to bring her glasses with her.  
  
She worked so desperately and with such unadulterated joy that it came as a great and almost painful shock to her when she realized that she had finished. It was nearly noon. Looking at her work, she burst into tears once more: it was perfect. For the first time in her life, she had managed to paint what she saw, the way it truly was, yet with a beauty greater even than it had really owned. Andrea was not one to flatter herself. In fact, her way was one of self-deprecation, rather than self- importance, and yet...even she could not deny herself this victory...down to the last pearl hung in the last cowslip's ear, it was really and truly perfect.  
  
"I stand rebuked, Little One," said a voice from behind her.  
  
She could not help it; she glomped him. She held him so hard that he felt breath leave him.  
  
"Andrea!" he gasped. "Little One, my honor!"  
  
"What?" she asked, startled, letting him go and plopping back down on the grass.  
  
"It is not proper that I who am courting someone should be in the arms of another," Legolas said, trying to catch his breath again.  
  
"That was a friendly hug!" Andrea protested honestly. "I would never -"  
  
"I know, Little One. You need not avouch your character in my eyes, but the tongues of elves wag even as humans' do."  
  
"I just wanted to thank you for the art stuff," Andrea murmured piteously.  
  
"You are most welcome. I stand rebuked for my former disbelief, for I see you have made good use of the stuffs I collected for you. It is most beautiful, Little Squee."  
  
He indicated her painting. She blushed rose-red and questioned,  
  
" 'Squee'?"  
  
"You are always squeaking, squealing, or squeezing something or someone," Legolas shrugged wryly. "Thus I name you Squee."  
  
"I like it," Andrea grinned shyly.  
  
Legolas' insides did a strange spiraling somersault. He saw before him a little girl of fifteen; paint streaked across a small, pert nose; big brown eyes that watched him with puppy-like adoration; hair of copper silk; a tiny, fragile frame... Humans were NOT supposed to be this adorable! He had to get away from her, now - right now!  
  
"Enjoy these things, Little Squee. I...must go."  
  
"OK! See you later, Legolas! Thanks again!"  
  
Her burbling giggle unnerved him still more. He turned and walked purposefully back towards the palace. Every stride he took was faster than the last. When he entered the corridor that divided his apartments, he was running harder than he remembered running in over a thousand years. Yet he was arrested in mid-stride by a single word.  
  
"Cúedhel?"  
  
Legolas literally stopped in his tracks, his chin lowered to his chest, his breath coming in ragged intervals. Morniwen would see straight through him, would know... his guilt would find him out... for he began to know that he loved this little mortal, and not the elven-lady he and his father had collaborated to choose for the young prince. What should he say?  
  
"What is wrong, my archer?" Morniwen cooed, tracing the muscles of his shoulder with her finger, the gray shade of her skin, darker than most elves' and yet not quite the color of a human's, which had earned her epithet, clearly visible.  
  
"I... I needed to run," Legolas told her truthfully.  
  
From what he had been running, he did not say. She was silent for a time, resting her head on his shoulder, waiting for him to say more.  
  
"I think, my Cúedhel," she said sagely at last, "that you need a respite. What do Men call it? A holiday. You are troubled here in this Mirkwood. Sojourn elsewhere with me for awhile. You may choose whatever companions you desire, and I shall choose mine. We will go to Rivendell, and then who knows? Perhaps from there we journey on to Aman. Not the long voyage yet, of course, but every elf must see Aman once before they journey there for eternity. Come with me!"  
  
And her suggestion seemed good to the Elven-prince. He would leave the wood to see the wonders, and while he was about it, he would forget the little human child that caused him this inner confusion. Raising his head slowly, he nodded with a fearsome resolution.  
  
"I will tell my father."  
  
MAGIC BUTTON! MWAHAHA...ha? 


	8. Enter Fuzzy Midgets

Yes, I'm still here.  
  
~Phe-chan~  
  
Morniwen managed to convince Legolas not to mention their prospective journey to Andrea, and indeed to take careful pains that the child did not find out from any one else, for fear that "the poor little thing would cause such a scene." The two of them explained their intentions to King Thranduil, who agreed to allow them and an entourage of elves to make the journey to Rivendell, but asked them to send him word if from there they decided to continue on to Aman. It was then a matter of weeks of careful preparation and planning.  
  
During this time, Andrea was still enamored of her art set, which both she and Legolas strove not to mention in front of Morniwen, and she took it everywhere, sketching waterfalls, flowers, sunsets, Elven feasts, and Elven hunting parties, until at last she remembered her previous desire to draw the magnificence of Thranduil's Throne Room. One morning, therefore, she laid out her parchments and "tool-box," as she lovingly called it, in the floor in the corner of the room. Thranduil took a sort of indulgent pleasure in watching her work as he conducted the domestic matters of his court.  
  
Then the Dwarves were brought in. Andrea watched Thranduil's mood take an instant and frighteningly dramatic swing for the worse. He began questioning them harshly as to why they had thrice attacked his people at their merry-making in the forest. Andrea cocked her head. These people looked too small to attack anyone. The Elves should have been able to kick their butts and go on "merry-making" in a span of about two minutes. Obviously they had, or the Dwarves wouldn't be standing in the Throne Room in chains.  
  
The Dwarves, standing quite near to Andrea's makeshift studio in the corner, pleaded that they had not meant to attack anyone, but had come instead to beg, for they were starving. Andrea felt an instant pity, and decided that she liked the funny little men. They were cute and pitiful, just like her, instead of being so absolutely gorgeous that she felt worthless beside them, as the Elves were. She stood up in order to get a better look at them, and proceeded to slosh her dirty paint-water all over the nearest dwarf.  
  
"ACK! I'm so sorry! I'm sorry! Gomen! Gomen!" She bent to try and help dry the little man, but only succeeded in falling over. "Ahhhhhh, no! I'm sorry! I'm so clumsy! I'm so sorry! I'm sorry!"  
  
"Andrea! Little Mortal," Thranduil interjected gently, "do not waste your courtesies on such as these. You have not done anything wrong."  
  
"But I spilt it all over him," Andrea protested miserably.  
  
The Dwarf (who happened to be Glóin) stood there dripping and blinking, seeming unable, due to his present state of shock, to do anything more intelligent at the moment.  
  
"With such precise aim," Thranduil nodded happily. "We'll make an archer of you yet, Little One."  
  
With a perplexed sigh, Andrea sat down and reluctantly continued painting. Elves were pretty, but they were confusing, too. She tried not to listen to the king's heated debate with what seemed to be the Head Dwarf (readers of The Hobbit will remember that this was Balin, as Thorin had previously been separated from the group); she did not like it when Thranduil was angry. He frightened her. She did look up when the king sentenced the Dwarves to prison, but from the look on Thranduil's face, she knew that right now was not the best time to attempt an intercession in their favor.  
  
Things went on thus for several weeks as Legolas hand-selected the friends he would like to have with him on his journey. Andrea approached Thranduil several times on the Dwarves' behalf, reminding him that he had spared her for the same reasons that the Dwarves wished to be spared, but he would not listen. Apparently there was some political motive behind all of it, but Andrea was not a political person, and did not really understand much of it, except that Dwarves and Elves really didn't like each other. Then one evening, just days before Legolas and Morniwen were to leave, Galion accidentally let fall in front of Andrea some particulars about the Eleven-prince's impending journey. Crushed, Andrea returned slowly to her room and sank down onto the bed. He hadn't told her he was going to leave. She tried hard to fight the tears that were welling up in her eyes.  
  
"I want to go home," she whispered wistfully.  
  
After all, why now should she stay? These sorrowful thoughts occupied her for some moments before an idea occurred to her. What about the Dwarves? If she left, who would plead their case? They couldn't stay down there forever. Thranduil had said that they must stay put until they "feel inclined to tell the truth, even if they wait a hundred years." That wasn't fair; Thranduil had a hundred years to burn, but the Dwarves didn't.  
  
"Yeah, OK," she whispered, "I'll stay for the Dwarves. Besides, Galion talked like Legolas was coming back. But I'm only staying for the Dwarves!" she added hastily to no one.  
  
The next few days somehow passed both all too swiftly and murderously slowly for the little human. Every time she saw Legolas and Morniwen together, she had to stand still and remind herself,  
  
"I'm staying for the dwarves."  
  
She became so anguished and so desirous of her home that she did some things she might never have done in her normal state of mind. Once, she even went straight into the king's private apartments and demanded that he "let those stupid midgets go so I can go home!" A less understanding elf would have had her severely punished for such impudence, but Thranduil very wisely called his queen to him and asked her to see if she could not comfort the child. Andrea calmed down, but would not explain why she was so upset.  
  
Then, the night before the Elven-party was to set out, a storm exploded that none of the most skillful Elves could have predicted: Morniwen found out about the art set.  
  
"Do you love her, then?" she demanded furiously.  
  
"Of course not! May I not make gifts to my father's guests without answering to you for it? Or only when they are not female? Beware your envy, my lady. It taints you so that you are no longer fair, in my sight or the sight of others!"  
  
"I have every right to be jealous! You are mine; you were promised to me! And here this little MORTAL steps in and -"  
  
"And tells me that she is bored and likes to paint. Does she not have as much right to enjoy her life in this forest as you?"  
  
"No, she does not! I am an elf! I belong here! I belong with YOU! She is a wretched little human orphan that has no business here! Let her go back to her own people and ask them for paints!"  
  
"She never asked me for paints! She told me she enjoyed painting, and as a common courtesy, I provided her the means! There is nothing more!"  
  
"Oh, but there is so much more! I have watched her, I have watched you, and I have surprised looks in her eyes that tell me everything you will not!"  
  
"She loves me! I know this! I give you that point!" Legolas cried. "But why should this mean that I have any place in my heart for her? Do you call me a liar? Do you call me infidel? Have a care, my lady, have great care! You grow less beautiful every moment that your jealousy consumes you thus. I will not live an eternity with envy and hate! I will not suffer your suspicion every time another female becomes my friend! Have a care, my lady, or I will go before my father, and our engagement will be ended!"  
  
Morniwen froze, her eyes and mouth working furiously.  
  
"For HER?" she managed at last. "You threaten to leave me over HER?"  
  
"No, I threaten to leave you over YOU. You are no longer lovely in my sight. You are bitter and cold. I will not live forever with one such as you."  
  
Morniwen screamed and made as if she would strangle him, then turned and ran out into the gardens.  
  
Andrea seemed born to misery. She was painting in the starlit palace gardens when Morniwen came running past and then stopped and turned, dangerously still, watching Andrea with an _expression the girl had never seen before.  
  
"So." Morniwen murmured. "Speak to me bold words now, Little Fool," she commanded in a hideous voice, "for I am ready to answer you."  
  
"I - I don't understand," Andrea whispered, terrified.  
  
"No, indeed?" Morniwen growled, barely restraining herself. Then she stopped. She knew now how to cause hurt here... to the child... and to the prince who dared threaten to desert her.  
  
"Well, then I will speak first," she told Andrea in a much calmer manner, smilingly cruelly. "We leave tomorrow, Little Fool. You have lost. We go forthwith to Aman, Legolas and I... to be married."  
  
"What?" Andrea could not help herself; her soul, with all its pain and agony, was laid bare before the Elf. "I thought - I thought -"  
  
"You did think, didn't you? So sorry to disappoint you."  
  
Morniwen swept triumphantly away.  
  
Andrea curled up beside the marble bench, hugging her knees and weeping.  
  
"I'm staying for the Dwarves," she sobbed. "I'm staying for the Dwarves."  
  
"Hi! Human Child!" called a fair voice.  
  
Andrea sat up and wiped her eyes. A sentry of the Elves was hastening towards her.  
  
"Where is Prince Legolas?" he asked her, to excited to take any notice of her tears.  
  
"I - I don't know. Why?" she sniffled.  
  
"I must tell him: the Dwarven prisoners have escaped!"  
  
He ran back towards the palace without heeding her distress.  
  
"So much for staying for the Dwarves," Andrea whispered. 


	9. To Run From an Immortal

There's only one more to go after this. Nearly done. Yay!  
  
~Phe-chan~  
  
Andrea was still huddled wretchedly half-behind, half-beneath the garden bench when she heard Legolas calling Morniwen's name. She scooted back under the shrubs that hid the right side of the bench. She resolved to stay there until Legolas had gone and then attempt to use her tiara to return home. She wasn't quite sure how it worked, but with her extensive knowledge of stereotypical fairy-tale artifacts, she hoped to be able to learn fairly quickly.  
  
Legolas was looking for Morniwen, it was true, yet not for the reason that the elven-maid's lie had caused Andrea to believe. Legolas had realized that Morniwen was right: he DID love Andrea. His honor compelled him to apologize and admit this to Morniwen. However, he also intended to tell her that now more than ever, he wanted their courtship ended.  
  
Unable to find Morniwen, he returned to the gardens to see Andrea running northwards, a shining golden chain clasped tightly in one fist, her "tool-box" under her other arm, and a roll of parchment stuck through her belt. On impulse, he ran after her. She was faster than he had expected her to be, and she did not trip, as she was wont to do.  
  
Still, Legolas was an Elf, and Andrea had barely got out of the gardens and into the forest before he had o'ertaken her and beseeched her,  
  
"Soft! Why do you run from me? I have done you no harm? I will do you no harm."  
  
"You're gonna go away. I'm going home so I don't have to deal with it," she whispered through quiet tears. He wondered why lips crowned with such pearls of sadness seemed so much softer and more fair.  
  
"I have to go. I can't watch you leave."  
  
Struggling to free her shoulders from his beautiful, long- fingered hands, she pleaded,  
  
"Let go of me. You're breaking my heart. You said that Elves die of broken hearts. Let me go! Please... just let go..."  
  
"I will never leave you! How can I?" he cried desperately, her plea cutting into his heart like no knife could. "I will not go! Wait!"  
  
She pulled away from him, certain he mocked her. She began to walk away... deeper into the forest where she could work undisturbed on how to control her tiara.  
  
"Wait! I say it once more; hear me: I will not leave. I will stay! Will you not stay as well?"  
  
"Why?" she asked bitterly. "Why should I hold you here? What can I possibly mean to you?"  
  
"Everything!" he shouted. "Everything, and so much more! I love you!"  
  
"You lie! You're making fun of me!" she screamed.  
  
"I love you! Listen to me! If you will not stay with me, then I will journey through the worlds after you! I will follow you! I will find a way!"  
  
Yet she believed him not, and slipped away through the mist. Weeping the longing tears of love, he ran after her. Sobbing, she clenched the tiara and thought wildly, I just want to go home.  
She sat up on the attic floor, breathing heavily. Running to the old mirror, she found herself attired in Elven velvet, her "tool-box" and her tiara still in her hands, and the last of her paintings rolled through her silver belt. She threw the box and the chain to the floor, pulled the painting out of her belt, and still crying, jerked it open. She was about to rip it in two when she realized what it was: a half-finished sketch of the night sky that she had wanted to give to Legolas after she had completed it. Gingerly, she rolled it up and laid it on a desk. Then she ran to her room, flung herself on her bed and offered herself up to her anguish.  
As for Legolas, he searched the wood about his father's palace the entire night, shouting Andrea's name. When it became obvious that she was not in close proximity to the palace, he returned and ordered those parties searching for the Dwarves to search equally diligently for Andrea. Unaccustomed to seeing their prince in this half-maddened state, the soldiers of Thranduil obeyed.  
  
Legolas then sought Morniwen. Finding her waiting for him outside his own chamber with an infuriatingly smug _expression, he was so angry that he could not speak. Unaware of her own peril, she loosened his tongue for him.  
  
"My poor Cúedhel. Is she gone already?"  
  
"Witch!" he cried, and the sound of his voice was a thunder that shook the walls and startled the elf-maid so that she trembled.  
  
"Serpent! Snake! Arrogant, hideous, conceited hag! Were you bred for the Evil One in the bowels of Dol Guldur? Monster! Demon!"  
  
He raised his hand to strike her and was stopped only by the fact that the honor of his people would not permit such an act.  
  
"Get out of my sight!" he shouted. "Get out of my sight before I kill you, regardless of your sex! I hate you! I HATE YOU!"  
  
As Morniwen fled down the hall behind him, Legolas ran into his room, cast himself upon his bed, and into his pillow screamed so that the palace shook, and his parents both came running. They cradled their son in their arms; desiring how they could help him, make him well. Yet the hour was late; they could not aid him now.  
  
Review or my muses come after you with sugar...though that doesn't sound nearly as scary as it is... 


	10. Tula Merna Eel

Wishing star.  
  
It was well into the night when Andrea's tears ceased their flowing. Slowly she sat up and looked around. Her room sat unchanged. She felt strange, out of place. She lifted her nearest stuffed toy and held it close.  
  
"I'm not home." She whispered, letting newer tears fall. "I'm not home at all." She cast the toy away and made her way to the window. The clouds and bright lights of the city hid any stars that may have been out. "I threw it away. I left. I'm an idiot for it. Knowing that I could just go back. but I'd have to face him. and the Lady Baka. I'm too much of a coward to do that." She drew the curtains closed and sat staring at them. "Stupid wishes. I should have known better than that."  
  
She sat for a long while, till she fell asleep. She dreamed of him, and woke, sobbing even after all her tears were spent.  
  
Did you know I'm crying tonight?  
  
The next few days were spent in a haze as Andrea tried to pick up the pieces of her shattered heart. She smiled for her family, holding back her sorrow to put on a mask of joy. Her sketchbooks were left untouched, and her dinners held not much more interest to her. At last she made up her mind.  
  
It was merely a day before she would be forced to resume her schooling. Andrea whipped her eyes and promised herself she would not cry anymore. This was not Mirkwood. She had been happy before, she could be happy again.  
  
You've run so far.  
  
It was with that in mind that she returned to the attic room. She hung the dress she had brought with her from Mirkwood in the wardrobe. Then she picked up the tiara. After a moment, she placed it in a small, drawstring pouch and hung it about her neck. She also put the half finished painting in a cardboard poster tube. Then she turned her attention on the toolbox.  
  
Left me to put up this fight.  
  
Once the box was placed in the closet corner, she went about her normal activities, trying to forget the time (which seemed to have taken not more than an hour or so to the real world) she had spent in fantasy. She had to finish unpacking, and label her new school notebooks. It came as a surprise, even to herself, when the word "SQUEE" was printed neatly across the front of each and every one.  
  
Wishing star.  
  
The dreams still plagued her. She saw his face over and over. Laughing, smiling, singing, speaking, gazing dreamily out into nothing... but what hurt most was when she dreamed of leaving, and when she thought of going back. But with the buzz of the alarm clock, the nightmares ended. She dressed in jeans and a shirt, ready for anything the school could do, as long as it didn't include elves.  
  
Did you know I'm lonely tonight?  
  
"Class, this is An-dree-ah." The teacher announced. "Go sit." He motioned to an empty desk.  
  
"On-dree-ah" she corrected as she sat down.  
  
You've gone so far.  
  
It was lunch already. The other students ignored Andrea as they located friends with shouts and laughter. Andrea was ignoring them as well. Her interest was in a book she had brought for this very reason.  
  
"You are Andrea, yes?" A tray was pushed next to hers. Andrea looked up. "My name is Siobhán, pleased to meet you. Call me Sivi."  
  
"Nice to meet you too." Sivi pointed at Andrea's book.  
  
"Into The Land of Unicorns, that's a good book. I like Thomas, myself." She stated.  
  
Andrea smiled for real at that. "Hey, me too!"  
  
And now this world can't seem right.  
  
Sivi grinned. "So, ever read Tolkien?"  
  
END 


	11. Extras

WAI!!!! The pre is Complete! Done! Finished! It needs no more work! YAY! This has made me HAPPY! Yes, HAPPY! I am going to go do some sort of dance or something now. And there will be tea and Sunkist for everyone! Whoo-hoo! Go us! Yay!  
But guess what! There is still more! Yes, there is! To find out what happened to Andrea and the PRETTY ONE, go read Elven Dreams and Misadventures and the newly posted poem by the same name as chapter 10! And now, a very fun bit. Brought to you by Phe-chan da Kawaii, EHAB da elf, and my overdose of Pixi Stix (BLUE IS THE BEST FLAVOR!).. The things you probably didn't wanna see. That's right. Time for. BLOOPERS! Bwahahahaha!  
~Phe-chan~  
  
***Chapter One: Andrea's brother***  
  
"Andreee!" her brother, a five year old by the name of Tony, bounced onto her bed. "Ge up Andreee! Pay wit-" * Tony falls flat on his face. * " -WHAAAAAAAAAA!"  
"Least now I know the clumsiness runs in the family."  
"WHAAAA!"  
"Think we need to try again, yes?"  
  
***In the attic  
  
In her search she knocked aside a stack of ancient boxes that had been left by the previous owner. * Andrea knocks over boxes. They fall on her. * "Help?"  
  
***  
  
Andrea shoved at the door again and was rewarded with a slight creak and. * Door falls over. * "This is not my day, is it?"  
  
***Chapter Four: where are you from? ***  
  
"Second star to the right, straight on till the third big - Sorry, what was that line again?"  
  
***Chapter Five: With Legolas***  
  
He laughed. "So I am." He waved her over. "Come sit with me a while. You seem about to run away."  
  
Now it was Andrea's turn to laugh as she quoted, "You must never run from anything immortal. It attracts-" * Andrea falls while climbing tree. * "I hurt."  
  
***  
  
"Cuedhel? Are you hiding, my w-" * Morniwen trips on her dress. Legolas is laughing. *  
* Andrea looks over. * "Elf go boom?"  
  
***Chapter Six: the fight  
  
"Hate to tell ya this, but you're about as pleasant as a wet toab." * Morniwen starts laughing. * "Wait, sorry. Try again?"  
  
***Chapter Seven: while painting***  
  
She could not help it; she glomped him. She held him so hard that he felt breath leave him. * They both fall over from glomp. *  
"Aiya, I though you said it was safe."  
  
***Talking to Morniwen***  
  
"I think, my Cúedhel," she said sagely at last, "that you need a re-sprite. What do Me-" * She stops. *  
"I thought we were never allowed to have carbonation."  
"Oh, shush you."  
  
***Chapter Nine: the "dream sequence"***  
  
"Why?" she asked bitterly. "Why should I hold you here? What can I possibly mean to you?"  
"Everything!" he shouted. "Everything, and so much more! I love-" * Andrea trips. * "Is that a hobby or something?"  
"Pain. I feel pain." 


End file.
